


The Best Music

by balladofasadcafe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Song references, outcasts, trapeze artist yamaguchi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balladofasadcafe/pseuds/balladofasadcafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was someone Tsukishima never wanted to be involved with. Yet the very same someone that he couldn't keep his eyes off of due to fate's crooked sense of humor. This was the trapeze guy that gravity was in love with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a circus comes to the town..

**Author's Note:**

> Hii all! Since I'm sucker for Circus AUs, have a Tuskkiyama one! I apologize for any misuse of circus related term beforehand.
> 
> Umm, actually I didn't mean this to be two chapters, but I am a real turtle when it comes to the writing. So i divided it into two parts! This part is mostly like an intro of the story, main song references will be in the second part (whatever!).
> 
> I thank my beta for her bearing up with me!!
> 
> Thanks for all of you who come to read, hope you like it!

It was one of the days that you'd believe would never end, timeless and inert. The crimson stains were like blood spills on a clear blue vastness. And from not so far-away there had been seen colored flags of the infamous circus. If Tsukishima Kei would have known that this very sight would be the symbol of ending to his infinite void, he certainly would have at least given a little more attention to it instead of letting out a sigh.

This was a tiresome town full of simple people living their dull lives. It was in the middle of nowhere, such a place that nobody would ever care whether it existed or not. Tsukishima Kei, 26, blonde, wearing glasses since he was ten - referred to as ice-man by every single child in the town- was fulfilling his life-long sentence of living in this Dante's hell. Actually it was not that bad or, rather, he would prefer hell to heaven. It was his third year here and he already felt like he belonged here. This non-existent place was where he could freely devour the empty.

He was one of those types, the ones who measured the time with music. For instance, it took one long and one average length Bach concerto to arrive at work from his flat. He could finish his dinner listening to Sinnerman twice. The time spent in the bathtub was variable, dependent on how tiresome the day was, and could change from one up to three replays of Guitar Solo 5. That was the type of man Tsukishima Kei was, filling the gaping dark holes of the town with sounds just like the protagonist of a novel.

He was working in city hall office from eight to five and living in a two-room flat on his own. No friends, and no girlfriend or the like. He was sure that everyone secretly believed he was a fugitive, most probably a criminal. He was completely alright with that impression. Thanks to that, he did not have to interact with people more than necessary. Everything was just perfect. Until a week ago.

A week ago. Firstly, he had been continuously tortured by kids screaming "circuuus" all around the town square during his office hours. Secondly, all the boring conversation topics shifted into circus and its people and if there was one thing these town people were good at, it was gossip. He had to overhear all those rumors circulating and evolving into brand new ones endlessly. Thirdly but not the least tiresome, was the circus people themselves. They were all around the town and were like viruses. They brought the liveliness of the outside world along with the quirky tales of their own, a venom that was quickly infecting people's souls. To sum it up, this circus was a complete threat to his utopia of serenity.

Therefore, at this very moment of the seventh day, he was already fed up and decided to challenge the circus. To defend his own castle, by his methods. He followed the tiny path crossing the woods until the naked hill appeared– the basement of the enemy. Even though he was not one of those people who are easily amazed –definitely not- he caught in small surprise about how actually big the circus tent was. Around it, there settled so many vans and several little fabric sheds as well. The enemy certainly occupied the most of the hill till there was a certain amount of safety distance from the cliffs. It was the thing that Tsukishima loved most about this town. It was so ironic that it fitted this town perfectly – having natural edges or borders one say to simply promote the fact that how shallow and limited it was. There was a huge obstacle however, between him and this exact edge right now. He did not like it.

***

Tsukishima could not recall how old he was when he'd first attended a circus. When he stepped inside the tent he could only recall the faint memory of a lion jumping inside a burning hole and how amazed he had been. He remembered squeezing Akiteru's hand tightly so that the big boy had to pat him on the shoulder for comfort. But right now, the thing he felt was nothing close to amazement, but a huge disappointment. The tent itself was big enough, but inside the thick fabric was fraying in some parts. Tools looking old and rusty were scattered around everywhere, people with ragged clothes and weary faces were nowhere near the boastful figures he'd seen in the town center, and the last and worst of all was the solid smell of the un-belonging restless souls of these wanderer creatures hung above.

Perfect illusion, he thought. Bigger and shiner from the outside, more pitiful and melancholic inside. And he liked it. Completely. He had already won the war -or so he thought - before he'd even had to struggle a bit. So he walked with confident steps until a guy in his mid-forties with strong build stopped him.

"Hey, as I told everyone keep coming here; there won't be a show for three months." His tone was more exhausted rather than angry.

"Then I won't need to buy a ticket until then, right?"

The guy was dumbfounded for a while then let out a sigh that felt like he surrendered. Tsukishima studied him quickly. Shorter than he was, broad shoulders and muscles screaming even underneath his cardigan – probably did lots of stunt when he was young- could be called handsome with nice facial features. He had that caring aura about him, just the sort you could see on a father who watched his children fondly.

"Well, that's right," the guy went on after a while. "Even so, please don't interfere with anyone's work."

"No intention of involving myself with any of you," Tsukishima commented coldly.

He thought he would make the guy angry but instead he wore some sort of smile that could be classified as genuine, as Tsukishima's 26 years of expertise on human facial expressions indicated.

Tsukishima was surprised and apparently it made the guy even more amused.

"Alright then. Welcome to our circus."

***

Apparently he was not the only one here. The kids of the town, seated on empty crates, were watching this ruckus with intense faces as if they believed breathing heavily would turn everything into a dust. He grinned without realizing it–the same man who had warned him was probably the one who had told the kids to stay still. The kids' eyes opened big with astonishment as they saw him and he shot them his favorite death glare, suppressing his laugh. They quivered with fear. I think I am going to really enjoy this, he thought.

He found himself another crate to sit just as the kids did but with a certain distance away. He slowly put his headphones on and found [Gypsy Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T80yDgC6S0g) in almost three seconds. The moment he touched play, like every single time, he felt like the master that holds the strings of all puppets and watched the scene change its colors with the start of music behind his glasses.

There were all kinds of people, tall and short, fat and thin, ugly and beautiful, smiling and frowning, all kinds of people each of who was with a quirk job. He studied each of them with a curiosity that he could not hold back, the old guy juggling, the girls on the trampoline, a couple on the rope, young boys exciting over the hanging circles, and more. It was one of the life's yet another mysteries that he could never understand: why they were doing these. That old guy spinning plates, for instance, probably more than fifty years of age. When did he start doing that? Just how many years he did spend to spin four plates holding two sticks each of his hands? How many days and hours? How many of them he broke? What was his goal anyway? Spinning six plates at a time or did he already do that? Why would a man spend his life just to spin plates? Did he ever feel accomplished?

"Pathetic." The word left his mouth without him realizing it.

All of these people spending their lives, all the hopeless efforts they put, for what? A thing that they call performing. It was not like someone would remember them for what they did after they died? No one would remember that guy's name for sure. Huh, even after a show he would certainly be overshadowed by the guys that did flashy stunt. So why did he care?

Questions were like a downpour each time he observed another one of them. For every single of them, he asked the same questions. For every single of them, he could not answer. The logic that Tsukishima thought while he was still struggling when he was a kid, his resolve that he liked to depend on, if every people held some energy which is conserved – then, wasn't it better to keep it as potential rather than kinetic. They were equal at the end. So no matter how far you would go, nothing would change. That was why Tsukishima himself was idle. Better stay still than to move if he couldn't make any change. Just as people, no matter how much love you give them, it won't increase. It won't make their hearts grow big. They only take as much as that was needed to fill. More would be spilt. That was how Tsukishima was living his way according to, yet this people overly humiliating as they were, were trying as if they were able to give and receive more than it is decided. No. Pathetic. Really.

***

Even so, Tsukishima decided instead of spending time changing channels on TV, it'd be better to just come here and watch the free play with his own background music. Seriously better than any TV show. Plus nobody was paying attention to him anyway. Maybe he looked like he was one of them, a weirdo. He couldn't care less.

Therefore, it was already his fourth day coming here. Today was a bit different though. Settlement of the safety nets below the high trapeze was finally completed. If he had to choose something to his least dislike, it would probably be the trapeze act. The thrill of the performance was the mix of perfect timing and speed which Tsukishima surely respected. So when he saw people above, he felt excited. Apparently there was one catcher and four flyers. The first thing that drew his attention was the guy whose height was above the average of the other flyers. And his hair – it was just so funny that it stuck up at the top of his head! He was on the hung metal bar just now.

Tsukishima carried his beloved crate to a closer angle to watch the show better. The guy was swinging very slowly – like he was afraid. His first time, questioned Tsukishima. He did not seem that young though. Maybe –

"Come on Yamaguchi, faster already!"

Yamaguchi, repeated Tsukishima. It was somehow ironic that a guy doing high trapeze had a mountain in his name.

Yamaguchi increased his speed. Even though he was taller, his body looked well-shaped and flexible. He was supposed to be caught by the catcher it seemed. But there was something wrong, even Tsukishima could sense it from afar. And in that instant, Yamaguchi's hands released the ropes he was holding. He flew for a second, but missed the catcher. Then began his fall. Quick. Sad. Right to the safety nets.

This was something Tsukishima had not expected. Of course, it was usual for performers to fall when practicing but.., He heard people grunting above, but did not paid attention to them. Right now, the guy lying on his back- like a fish caught by the fishermen, desperate and lustful for a breath- was the only thing that caught his interest. He stared at him without knowing why until, for some absurd reason, their eyes met. Yeah, it was absolutely then, his interest piqued, even failing to resist startling – his eyes were darker than anything the night itself could offer. Plainly empty. Just as his own. This realization caught him off guard having someone around just as lifeless as himself. And that he was realizing Tsukishima was just like himself, that was even scarier. Their eyes locked for a while that seemed like eternity, neither of them daring to break. Tsukishima knew that it was not the color of the eyes that make them similar, it was the small little craters, flats, circles and billions of different shapes that made one eye similar to another. Tsukishima knew that theirs were exactly the same, two pairs of black holes.

_Yamaguchi!_

It was that sound that made them both fall into the current time. 

***

Before Tsukishima knew, this guy became his guilty pleasure. It was not that he was enjoying watching him fall over and over again,  being scolded by the other performers, and -never- seeing the starry way on his face blurring with tears. No. He could even say he felt some unfamiliar cramps somewhere in the middle of his chest. It was only those moments, just like the very first day, their eyes met over and over again and each time, how hopeless, humiliated, and given up he looked before, he always laughed with those eyes that Tsukishima saw himself like a mirror. And each time, Tsukishima averted his eyes with fear. Because it was his first time, he did not hate someone that laugh. And every single day, Tsukishima found more reasons to rush to the circus.

***

Tsukishima was observing a small kid teaching something to his monkey which was probably the weirdest thing at that moment when he heard a tap on his headphone. If it was that annoying boss again – what was his name, Daichi or something – he would –

"Umm… Hi! Do you want something to drink?"

This was absolutely not Daichi holding an orange juice can with some cartoon characters on it. This was someone Tsukishima never wanted to be involved with. Yet the very same someone that he couldn't keep his eyes off of due to fate's crooked sense of humor. This was the trapeze guy that gravity was in love with. This was the first time he saw the guy close-up, not that he was very different from the way he looked from afar, hair sticking up at the top, funny as always but the only new feature he did find was a sprinkling of freckles.

"No, thanks," Tsukishima answered finally.

"Uhh… you don't like orange?" The freckles guy panicked with overly exaggerated hand gestures. "I can ch-."

"It's not that," the blonde interrupted.

Calm down, what are you a five year old, Tsukishima thought. He could not be classified as a sadistic person but watching him tremble with uneasiness made his stomach jump with joy.

"T-Then, please take it," the trapeze guy proceeded shyly. His hand was slightly trembling, and a certain color of flush was dancing across his freckles.

The truth was Tsukishima was not very familiar with getting treats, not that he was rude. Well, he could be that too sometimes. But…

"Well… thanks," he murmured while taking the cold can in his palms finally.

"What's your favorite?" The trapeze guy's face lightened quickly.

"What?"

"Drink, I mean."

"Why do you ask?"

"Uh… sorry! I didn't mean to… I mean I just -"

"Coffee… it's black coffee."

"Ohh… thanks for telling me. I'm Yamaguchi by the way."

"I know that."

"Huh?"

"Because everybody was yelling your name."

"Ahh... something like that." He looked at his feet like he was about to say something more but held himself back. Instead he asked eagerly, "And you?"

"Tsukishima."

"Tsukishima," Yamaguchi repeated with a happy sound like he was enjoying the taste of a dessert in his mouth.

They did not speak for a while.

"So you like circuses?" The trapeze guy asked breaking the silence.

"Not particularly."

"Oh, since you came here every day –"

"Look, this town is small and the days are getting longer. Do you have a problem with me being here?"

"Eeh, no no!"

"Then if you have nothing else to say…"

He shook his head softly and got up.

"I like it."

"What?"

"I like it when you come here. So please keep coming"

***

"He's not here," the kids shouted.

"What the –."

Yet he certainly knew what, that was why he didn’t go into the tent but walked towards the edge of this pencil-drawn town.

He saw him from afar, at the very edge of a cliff, a small shadow. He did not know what to do. Should he go to him? Then what? What would he say to him?

_Shit. I am going home._

Except he couldn't.

He was only three steps away when the brunette turned his head and gave him a "Hi" with a surprised smile.

"Hi," Tsukishima said back.

He sat near to him. He saw an empty can of black coffee by his side. So he did like it as well? As his gaze met with the other boy, he saw some suspicious flush on his face ,eyes coming back and forth between him and empty can.

Tsukishima smiled.

They sat there for a long time with the awkward silence building an invisible wall between them. Then Yamaguchi started: "I am one of those. Escape from home to join to a circus," he said as he laughed.

"Why?" Tsukishima asked simply.

This 'why' meant more than couple things, not why did you escape from home, not why did you join circus. It meant more than any of that. The blond was not sure he'd get what he wanted, but then if there was someone who'd get it, it'd be this guy.

The smaller guy looked at him with a question and nodded after a second.

"Because, at least it's a little cooler to fall from high," he said.

Tsukishima startled. "I see."

 


	2. left wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe life is only about finding those people who will give us our left wings..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, here is the second part finally! I'm so happy that I finally finished this. (all thanks to my amazing beta katBelle for her effort)
> 
> There is a Russian song referred one of the scenes below, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5IIwDpuFZA) i totally recommend to read it while listening this. Actually, this song and that scene was the reason I started this fic.
> 
> Also there is another song, II Mondo (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu-iNE_xD9I), which is also referred again in the final scene, in case you want to listen.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it :)

It became their routine to sit there, by the edge of the cliffs, after the training each night, the spot so defenseless and open yet it had become their fortress. It was the exact opposite of the inside of the tent: lonely and calm. It was mostly the trapeze guy who did the talking, chatting about anything but himself, apart from the very first day he confessed that he was a runaway. He mostly told about the places they visited and the people he met­­ ­–­ people that surprised him, and made him laugh, and cry sometimes—but always it was others that he spoke of.

And there were also times when Yamaguchi miraculously knew to give some hints to Tsukishima to open up. The times that Yamaguchi teased information from Tsukishima were always days when the repetition had grown tiresome. It was he was bored with the office work, or how Akiteru called every single night to ask him how he was – as if there were something new to tell, as if every single day of his life was not the same (well, in truth it wasn't, not since he met the trapeze guy, but he would not admit that so easily). Those days, Tsukishima would complain about how it always took so long for his book order to be delivered to this crappy town, or how bad the local radio station was; overall how shitty the everything was. Those days, Yamaguchi would listen carefully and laugh at every sarcastic sentence that left his mouth.

This was a whole new thing for Tsukishima, this being completely content in someone else's presence.

***

"He wasn't like this before. He was really good."

Tsukishima was startled at the sound. It was Daichi. He was sitting on a small audience seat, which apparently Daichi had ordered to be put up for the frequenters.

Day inside the tent was lively as always, but there was only one thing that Tsukishima's eyes were following.

"I don't need a commentary." He finally faced the man.

"Yet, you are going to listen."

No matter how much he wanted to, Tsukishima couldn't come himself to hate this man. He did not like the way he read him like an open book. And telling the things that he'd die to hear but would never ask.

"When he first came to the circus he was around ten. A couple, trapeze artists, took care of him from the first day. They treated him like their own kids. I think he loved them more than anyone else. He learned everything from them.

"I remember so vividly that on one of his birthdays the woman gave him a pair of wings. The feathers were pure white and shiny, nothing average that the performers sometimes use for show. Then she said she believed that everyone is born with a wing on his right side. For the left one, it is others that make it grow. We are your left wing Tadashi, she said.

"I'd never seen him that happy before."

It was not hard for Tsukishima to imagine Yamaguchi’s face lit with joy, with tears most probably piling around the corners of his eyes. His eyes, he thought. They wouldn't have been like dead back then, he guessed. He really wanted to see that.

"One night," Daichi continued, "the husband was supposed to catch the wife during a performance. I don't remember how it happened, but it was awful. He couldn't catch her. Even with the nets, she broke her arm. After that, the man couldn't stop feeling the guilt, and the woman felt useless. They became a misery. One day, they vanished without telling anyone – even Tadashi. He hopelessly tried to reach them, at least to say something final. But he'd been ignored, along with all of the rest of us that tried to make contact. We all thought he'd do really badly. But for some weird reason, he became more and more successful. More daring, more fearless. Maybe he was also trying to break himself or something. And finally, one day he fell. About two years ago I think. And since then he's been like this. I told him to try being a catcher. But he insisted that he'd rather fall by himself. "

"How could you let him perform in shows then?" Tsukishima asked in shock.

"He hasn't performed in any show. Not since that day."

"What?"

"He just says he doesn't want to. Yet he still trains every single day."

"Then why didn't you fire him?"

"Because he has nowhere to return to, and besides he's a part of my family. Daichi gave him a painful smile then, and murmured, "Thanks for talking to him," before he left.

Tsukishima took his head between his palms, trying to understand what he had just heard.

Something about a bird with one wing.

***

It was exceptionally windy that day, and the sea below them was angrier than usual. It had already been more than a month of fulfilling their unspoken promise of sitting in their spot every single night, listening to waves, talking about random things. Even though every night seemed the same, Tsukishima had a different song for every one of them.

 _What will be tonight's song?_ Tsukishima was wondering when the smaller boy started to talk.

"There is something weird with this place, with - me being here."

There was an accepted sorrow in his voice just as you could hear from mystics who wear the pain proudly.

"When I first came here, this exact spot I heard a song that I'd forgotten for a long time," he said. "Umm… T-There was a couple in the circus, when I was still a kid. They were trapeze artists from Russia. The wife had such a pretty voice and her husband was a totally stern man." He laughed.

Something close to his heart tilted in Tsukishima. So he was telling his story to him or…? He was scared to move a single muscle on his face, scared of making him stop talking.

Yamaguchi did not realize how tense Tsukishima was, or so he pretended while going on talking.

"The man played the accordion so well. Then his wife would sing some Russian tones. Those nights, I thought, were haunting. But, I loved them. They were first my lullabies. "

He did not speak for a while. Tsukishima wanted to look at his face, but he could not.

"Then one night, she broke her arm during a show. And I have never heard that song again.

"And after years- what I mean is I ... I heard that song again. It was like a call from a ghost. Then I saw a wire made of pure silk between this cliff and the opposite side. A voice inside my head, walk through it, it said. I was enchanted. I was actually about the step into the void and then I realized there was no rope."

He stopped for a while, then murmured some tune,

_Kalina krasnaya, kalina vyzrela_

Something like this -

He laughed again mumbling "Am I kid or what?" and then started crying.

Tsukishima never felt this desperate. How could a face pull a genuine smile while crying, and how could it possibly be this beautiful? It was a thing he never experienced. He wished he was good with words. He wished he knew where to put his hands, yet they were frozen with desperation. He wished he knew what he had to do. He wanted to do something for someone this bad for the first time of his life. He wanted to give him something, anything. He'd give all those birds to him to give him the wing he had lost a while ago. He'd give him something of his own.

Instead he got up and held out his hand. "Come on."

"What?" Yamaguchi asked, wiping his tears with the back of his hands.

Tsukishima took his hands from his face, wet and shining with salt, and wrapped them with his.

"And?" Ymaguchi looked directly into his eyes.

"We'll dance. So sing." Tsukishima looked anywhere but Yamaguchi's eyes to cover his embarrassment.

"B-But I cant remember, I said -"

"Doesn't matter. Just make it up."

"I-It's embarrassing."

"I know and I'm still doing it." Tsukishima cursed himself for being so pale and his face for easily showing neon lighting with every single blush.

He put one of his hands to Yamaguchi's waist so light that its existence couldn't be felt. Even so, Yamaguchi felt the tenderness in that touch and took it as encouragement to put his own hand to Tsukishima's shoulder with a little tight grip.

It felt a little awkward for both of them and Yamaguchi could not help but whisper a rushed apology. "Sorry, Tsuk-ki."

Tsukishima was surprised by the hushed 'Tsukki' he thought he heard. "S-Shut up and sing."

Yamaguchi couldn't help but smile the paradox of the sentence. He then started with hesitation,

_Kalina krasnaya, kalina vyzrela_

_Ya u zaletochki k-kharakter vyznala._

_Kharakter vyznala, kharakter ooy kakoy.._

"I am not sure this is a dance –."

"Hshh, go on," Tsukishima whispered with his eyes closed.

"I can't remember the rest," Yamaguchi murmured in an even lower voice.

"Hum then."

It was the most pathetic thing ever. Two grown-up men dancing without actual music and just a few steps away from the bitter end of a cliff. There lied at the bottom sharp rocks and above wild seagulls screaming. Anyone who saw them would certainly think they are crazy. And Tsukishima loved this. So much that his heart came out of his mouth. And the sweet melody of the guy he held humming. Why he felt like he could listen this forever, he could not answer. He oddly wished that there were some instruments playing, a piano. He oddly wished that this hand in his palm, warm and timid as a little bird, was squeezing his fingers much more, that he felt the pain. Pain as much as these hands carried. Pain as much as the pulse beating in those thin wrists endured. He oddly wished he was not such a coward so that he could pull him a little closer. And - and maybe bury his face in his hair that smelt like a strawberry field. He oddly wished th –

A soft and hot breeze touched his lips just then, and he opened his eyes with shock. A pair of eyes was aligned to his in a horizon that was no longer dark, but illuminated with supernovas.

Tsukishima oddly prayed that if this was a dream, it was one he could not wake from.

***

And it was one of those nights when Yamaguchi nonchalantly declared that he would perform on the show that would be held at the end of their training term, on their last night in this town. This, the guy who had not been on stage in more than two years and even without the pressure of spotlights could not succeed three times in a row without falling.

"Daichi said it will be good".

***

How days turned into weeks, and those weeks into months, Tsukishima could not understand. Just as he could not grasp how the weird interest he had taken in the trapeze guy turned into something he could not name, a mixture of compassion, warmth, desire, and a need very close to possession. It became natural for Tsukishima to see the freckled man everyday, to listen to him, and to watch him standing in the air for a moment like a magical creature. Just as he started to take his existence for granted the sudden realization of the story's ending hit him hard.

But before that. There was something he had to cope with first. Tonight was the night. The performance.

Tsukishima did not have the heart to step inside to watch it under all those spotlights. If he did, he knew he would not be able to stand watching him fall and people daring to shower him with pity, various "Ahh's" and "poor guy's". No, he would rather murder every single of them than to see the sorry look in their eyes. He would never let Tadashi see that Tsukishima saw him falling… again. He could never do that. Instead, he sat outside the tent hugging his knees intensely, too afraid to put his headphones on for the first time. He was shivering yet his arms were still warm. If he could, he would certainly play ll Mondo on repeat. Maybe for the music, maybe because there were no stars above.

_No, tonight my loved one / I'm not thinking about you / I've opened wide my eyes_

_/to look around me too/ and around me true/ the world's keeps turning just as always_

Just like that. The world kept turning just as always. He watched townspeople that he loathed so long that they'd already become nothing but faint ghosts. He watched how easily they laughed without any worries hidden behind their lips. How senselessly they were about to step into that tent without even thinking twice, without even understanding what they were about to see. No. There was no way they would ever sense that they were not watching a mere show but a person's life -spent walking on thin fucking ropes- just to make them clap. Just to have them entertained. He watched the hypocritical smiles on the clowns' faces greeting people inside. He knew it very well how hard it was to smile with all your heart, and yet all of them, even these plain town people, were looking down on them. Because, everyone knew clowns were liars. And that was why everyone laughed at them. He couldn't take his eyes off of everyone passing by until they turnd into smooth black figures and disappeared into inside. Maybe he should not have come here at all, just how pathetic it was to sit outside just as the weather was about to rain. But he could not move. His brain and his heart switched functions tonight or rather they were not functioning.

 _Oh dear world_ _/_ _I've just now looked and you are timeless_ _/_

 _myself  I'm losing in your silence_ _/ and I am nothing next to you_

He was nothing. He had been completely empty till he met him. Something had been filling his insides ever since and already he was heavier. Making him grow roots to the earth, making him want to smile shamelessly, to cry screaming and to laugh sincerely just as these people. Something was filling his insides and he'd never imagine it'd be this painful. He already knew that his heart couldn't hold more than enough. So why was it that he was in need of more and more of everything. More of the trapeze guy. And it struck him like a lightning, that line he read too long ago something like this, ' _we promised to be each other's nothing, but we became each other's everything_.'

A huge cheering and cloud of applause made him jump and it started rain all of a sudden. Guess everything was alright, still.

Tsukishima freed his knees from his arms, now totally soaked from head to toe, and looked blankly into the void just as a tall tiny man could fit hanging between his arms which were still warm. Still.

He recalled last night like it was a movie he watched a while ago. They sat in their usual spot with neither of them saying a word. Tsukishima brought a small radio that played the some unknown town's local station. They listened to all the songs that the radio played. They exchanged small smiles, and sometimes casual looks that disguised some guilt, maybe fondness, maybe regret, maybe love and sometimes daring looks burning with passion, anger, and fear. Until midnight. Neither of them spoke. Tsukishima never reached for the brunette's hand, and his palms never invited him. Though, when it is time to part, "Stay with me," the circus boy said. Not a command, but a request.

The time he made love to him, there was no music playing in his mind. Freaking silent. As if there was no longer a need to measure time, as if there was no longer space and dimensions. But only the voices of the man he held, very soft and quiet. Whispers of the trapeze guy that echoed in his body again and again, and the ghostly sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks. The time he made love to him, he learned the heartbeat of another's against your own heart was the best music. 

***

Yamaguchi probably- no definitely - knew he could not come inside as well as his reason for it. But why was his heart so guilty, why did it feel like a graveyard growing, tombstones emerging? What if. What if for even a small portion he wanted to see me there even if he fell? Even if everyone pitied him. What if he wanted me to look him in the eye and give him a smile? What if then, and would I be even able to smile?

What Tsukishima was sure of was that he did not want to feel regret. So he stepped inside the circus tent only to be blinded by the lights and people. He did not know where to look yet he saw him there. He was about to climb to stairs. To his stage. To the place he would rise or fall forever. And the trapeze guy saw him as well. His beautiful face bloomed with excitement, with hope, with joy, all the things he deserved. Even with Tsukishima just standing there. His existence was enough for him, in the end?

Tsukishima did not have the power to change things before they happened. He could not grant him flight. But there were things that he could do; even knowing that energy could not be converted to a larger amount, would he use all that he got? So he caught him before climbing the stairs. He held him tight, so tight that he could understand what he meant to Tsukishima. If he fell tonight, even if he fell for the rest of his life, Tsukishima would be there for him.

He took Tadashi's face into his hands and looked into his eyes, without fear this time, and just like the day they first kissed, pupils dilated and stars swirling, their lips promised the unspoken vows. Even so, Tsukishima whispered, "I'll be your left wing from now on. So, fly tonight."

He saw how the trapezist’s eyes opened wide with surprise and a smile found its way through his tiny lips for a second only to his face was clouded with hesitation. Was those words not enough, Tsukishima panicked. Couldn’t he be able to get his feelings through? Then how –

Tsukishima’s thoughts of roller coaster is resumed by a question.

“For how long?” Yamaguchi asked.

Everything became clear in that moment. It was the most important part of every promise.  You should not grant someone a wing if you were to break it after a while, right?

“As long as you want me to be.” Tsukishima said with a high tone he did not intend to. He never knew words had this much power, and he could fill them with this much confidence.

“Is forever too long?” the trapeze guy asked again, with his face burning hot in his palms.

Tsukishima smiled, unable to help it. “I don’t think so.”

It was then Yamaguchi stole a kiss while whispering into his mouth, “It’s a promise then!” and rushed to climb the stairs.

Tsukishima stood where he was, not knowing what to with himself, with this warm feeling growing inside his stomach, not knowing where to put himself.

He saw an arm waving to him just about the front seats of the audience, then spotted Daichi.

He walked towards him still unsure whether his feet stepping on earth or the clouds. Daichi seated him an empty seat that mostly probably he reserved for him from the beginning, and handed him a towel with a wide smile on his face.

“Uhh, such a romantic scene!”

“Shut up old man” Tsukishima said, unable to erase the traces of the joy on his own face. So happiness was contagious or what?

The audience were most excited than before, catching their breaths, letting out scared “Ohh”s and applauding after every jump. They watched Yamaguchi dancing in the air flawless like he had never been before, with eyes filled with mostly compassion for one and mostly passion for another.

Tsukishima suddenly turned to Daichi, “Hey, old man. I think I’ll be unemployed starting from tomorrow.”

“Really? What an incredible coincide.” Daichi said, with no sign of surprise. “ I think we’ll have open position starting from tomorrow.”

Tuskishima laughed. As expected from the boss.

“So, does that job provides accommodation?”

“Hmm, maybe there is particular someone who is eager to share his van with you.” Daichi suggested as his eyes followed Yamaguchi.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Some maybes were better than definitelys after all.

Somehow Tsukishima thought, the trapeze guy would never fall again. And even if he did, it did not matter anymore. He saw him there, too high above the earth like there was no roof above them but only the sky that was so big. And he was shining. He oddly remembered Tadashi's heartbeat inside his palms.

"The best music, huh," he repeated smiling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking till the end. *Loves*


End file.
